Huddle With Me Tonight (13 page)

“We’ve all read the review that started all of this, Paige. What was it about Torrian’s book that you hated so much?”

Torrian sensed her stiffen but then relax. “Actually, Stephenie, I think people have blown this entire situation out of proportion. I didn’t hate Torrian’s book per se. Did I have a few issues with it? Sure. But hate it?” Paige shook her head.

Torrian had not realized his muscles had tensed so much until he let out a breath, and the tension with it.

Paige continued. “I think this is another case of me writing what I thought was a funny, tongue-in-cheek review, only to find that my words were taken completely out of context.”

“I think that’s happened to all of us a time or two,” the anchor replied. She turned her attention to him. “Unfortunately for you, Torrian, when it happens to a well-known celebrity, the ripple effects last much longer.”

“Yes, they do,” Torrian answered. “I guess I have a bit of learning to do. I think there’s still hope for me, if Paige is willing to help.”

She actually blushed. It was gorgeous on her.

“Well, all of New York is still buzzing about your online skirmish, and we’re all anxious to see who comes out on top in your battle in the kitchen.”

“I have my own prediction,” Torrian answered, “but there’s only one way to find out.”

The anchor looked into the camera. “Thankfully, for us, New York, the wait is almost over. Stay tuned for round one of
Playing with Fire
.”

The anchor took out her ear piece. “That was good,” she said. “I was a bit concerned when John said we wouldn’t be working the sworn-enemies angle, but I think viewers will like this more. Good luck in the kitchen today,” she said.

John left his post next to the cameraman. “The kitchen is almost ready,” he said. “You’ll both need to be there in the next five minutes.”

Paige pushed up from the sofa, and Torrian quickly followed her. “That was painless, wasn’t it?” he asked.

“Almost.” She laughed. “I hate to admit it, but you were right. I probably would have been a lot less comfortable if we were duking it out during that interview. Things flowed a lot better without the fighting.”

“The one thing I don’t want to do with you is fight,” Torrian said.

He stared down at her and allowed the desire that had been building within him to show in his eyes. He wanted to make sure there was no mistaking what he had in mind.

He wanted her.

She held his gaze, her lips slightly parted, understanding, naked and raw, in her eyes.

“You don’t take no for an answer, do you?” she panted.

“What do you think?” Torrian asked.

John came up to them. “We’re ready to start.” He ushered them toward the kitchen.

When Torrian arrived at his cooking station, the ingredients for his crepes were portioned in a half dozen small stainless steel bowls and arranged around the cook top. They had been told beforehand that they could cook the food that would be judged off-air, but Deirdre had warned that the crepes would be rubbery if he made them ahead of time. The filling was ready, and the plates were decorated with curly green garnish, but to secure a win, Torrian would have to get the crepes done during their cooking segment.

Paige took her place behind her stove. She seemed to have recovered from the moment that had passed between them. She picked up the blue-and-white pin-striped apron with the KWEZ Channel 10 logo etched into the center and pulled it over her head, tying it in the back.

She looked over at him and expelled a dramatic sigh. “Please put that apron on.”

Torrian’s head flew back with a crack of laughter. He tied his apron around his waist. “Are you still not going to tell me what you’re cooking?”

“Nope,” she said. “You’ll find out when the rest of New York does.”

“It had better be good,” he warned. “I predict my dish is going to be the most popular appetizer on the menu at my restaurant.”

“Well,
I
predict you’ll be asking me for my recipe once we’re done today,” she said with an extra sweet smile.

Torrian returned the smile. “We’ll see about that.”

Paige didn’t know what happened, but as soon as the camera started rolling every bit of anxiety she’d been feeling vanished. The light banter Torrian had promised occurred naturally between them.

The camera was focused on him at the moment. He spoke to the audience with a presence that commanded attention.

“The key when making crepes is to make sure you spread the batter evenly,” Torrian said as he used the bottom of the ladle to smooth the thin batter. “You have to keep your eyes on them because they’ll burn in an instant.”

He flipped the crepe over, and Paige couldn’t help but be impressed by its perfect coloring.

“Spoon about three teaspoons of the spinach and artichoke mixture into the center of each crepe and fold the sides over.” He folded the paper-thin pancakes. “I see you drooling over there,” he said, looking up from his task long enough to send Paige a sly, impossibly sexy grin. “Don’t worry, there’s enough for you.”

“They do look pretty,” Paige said, “Unfortunately for you, I believe our judges have taste buds.”

“Ouch.” He put a hand to his chest. “You mind keeping your daggers on your side of the kitchen?”

“Sorry, but the truth does hurt,” Paige answered with exaggerated sorrow.

“Just for the record, I added a little crow to your crepe. I have a feeling you’ll be eating some pretty soon.”

“Good one.” Paige pointed her finger at him. “Gotta love your confidence.” She shrugged nonchalantly as she added garnish to her dish. “Of course, confidence is about the only thing you have going for you, because those crepes won’t get you very far.”

“Can someone please get the knives away from her?” he called out, his eyes roaming around the studio as if searching for someone to come to his aid. There was a flurry of laughter around the set.

The camera cut back to the news desk. The morning anchor, who was still grinning, said, “We’ll see who our celebrity judges choose as the first-round winner in this most spirited kitchen battle.”

Torrian walked over to her, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “You got over that camera shyness pretty quickly.”

“I did,” Paige agreed. “This has been more fun than I thought it would be.”

“The cooking or the cheap shots you keep taking at me?”

“Oh, definitely the cheap shots.” She chuckled. She leaned toward him. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I hate to cook.”

“It’s a good thing I’m available as your target. This would be torture if you had no one to grill.”

“It’s nothing personal.” Paige continued to grin. “You
are
being a good sport about all of this. Just let me know if I go too far.”

“You’d have to get a lot nastier to reach too-far status,” Torrian answered. “Compared to what I have to put up with from reporters, you’re being downright friendly.”

“You do shoulder a lot of criticism, don’t you?” The realization caused Paige to feel a twinge of regret for some of the things she’d said to him.

Torrian shrugged it off. “It comes with the territory. I guess I didn’t realize it would be more of the same with the book and restaurant. Maybe I should be thanking you. Now I know what’s to come from other food and book critics.”

“Not necessarily,” Paige said. She couldn’t keep the wry smile from surfacing. “After all the heat you’ve taken over my review, I’m sure all the other critics will take it easy on you.”

“You may be right.” He paused, then continued. “I’m happy you decided to do the show. We have a natural rapport once those cameras start to roll.”

“That seems to be the case,” Paige agreed, her eyes locked with his. She felt herself staring, but even when she tried to pull away, her brain wouldn’t let her. “I think viewers will respond to this better than they would have responded to a formal apology. We’re actually
showing
them that there are no hard feelings between us.”

“So, there are none?”

“Hard feelings? I thought we already took care of that.”

“I still wasn’t sure,” Torrian said. He stepped closer, leaned in, and with a whisper, said, “Maybe if you actually accepted a dinner invitation from me, it would convince me.”

Paige stopped short. A rush of heat flowed over her skin at the hushed, sensual tone in his voice.

“C’mon, Paige?” he continued, his warm, moist breath like a tantalizing wisp of sensation in her ear. “It’s not as if we haven’t gone out to dinner before.”

“That was by accident,” she said, infinitely grateful her voice did not crack. “And I told you then that there could be nothing between us.”

“I didn’t like your reason.”

Paige forced herself to break out from under the sensual web his nearness had woven around her. She knew what was at stake if she allowed herself to be seen with Torrian in anything other than a professional light. If she landed that syndication deal, people would automatically think she’d used his celebrity to make it happen.

“What’s the real reason you won’t go out with me?” Torrian asked.

Paige stepped away from him, needing the physical distance to clear her head. “I don’t owe you an explanation,” she said. “This is just the way it is; the way it has to be. I hope you can accept that.”

“What if I can’t?”

The urgency in his voice caused Paige’s head to whip around. She found nothing but raw honesty in his hazel eyes.

He glanced over to the stagehand who was setting up the table where the three judges would judge their recipes in the next segment. Torrian grabbed her elbow and gently tugged her toward the back of the set.

“Paige, I haven’t been able to think about anything but you for days,” he admitted. “It doesn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing. You can’t expect me to ignore this.”

Paige closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. Need burned deep within her chest. A part of her wanted to say to hell with professionalism. So what if everyone thought she’d only glommed on to Torrian because of his celebrity? She knew differently. Why deny them both the chance to explore the heat that had erupted between them simply because she was afraid of what others would say?

Paige looked up at him. The intensity in his stare stole her breath.

Just say yes,
her mind pleaded. Hadn’t she done enough to prove that she could make it on her own? She was tired of living her life for what others thought.

With a leap of faith as long as the skies were vast, Paige grabbed hold of Torrian’s gaze and said simply, “Okay.”

His eyes widened at her answer, as if he didn’t believe it.

“If you’re willing to keep it a secret,” she continued. Even though she’d just told herself that what others thought didn’t matter, she was not going to give them something to talk about if she didn’t have to. “I’m willing to see where this…this attraction between us will lead. Just promise me we’ll be discreet.”

A slow smile curled at the edge of his mouth. “I can do discreet,” he said. “Can I see you tonight? I can come to your place; cook you dinner. I’ll dress in baggy sweats and a baseball cap. No one will ever know it’s me.”

Paige let out a tired laugh. “This is crazy.”

He shrugged. “I agree. But if this is how you want it, it’s what I have to do. I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

He was. Resolve shone through his eyes.

“We’re almost ready for the judging segment,” one of the associate producers called.

Torrian squeezed her arm, drawing her attention back to him. “What do you say, Paige?”

She shoved away the lingering doubts and decided to take a chance on fate.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

Chapter 12

T
orrian parked his BMW two blocks from Paige’s brownstone. He was taking no chances. He understood her need for discretion, even if he didn’t share it. Over the past seven years, he’d become immune to the media’s scrutiny of his love life.

According to the papers, his latest girlfriend was a woman who had been in front of him while he was in line to buy a bagel. A photographer from
The Post
happened to be in the vicinity, and that was apparently all that was needed to make it the gospel truth. It had been a stretch for
The Post
to convince the public his make-believe relationship with Bagel Woman was front-page news, but having him linked romantically with Paige…People would eat it up.

Torrian wasn’t ready to share; he wanted her all to himself.

He quickly made his way up the steps and pressed the button next to Paige’s name.

“Torrian?” she asked.

“Not a good way to answer your doorbell. What if it wasn’t me?”

“Sorry, I’m not used to subterfuge,” she answered. “Come on up.” A buzzer sounded, followed by a click. Torrian transferred the bag of groceries to his left hand and pulled open the heavy door. He took the steps up to her third-floor apartment two at a time. When he arrived on her landing, Paige was waiting just inside her door.

“Hi,” she greeted, opening the door so he could slip in, then quickly closing it behind him.

“Good evening,” Torrian answered.

Damn, he wanted to kiss her. For a second, Torrian saw himself dropping the groceries in the middle of the room and snatching her face between his hands. Instead, he walked over to her kitchen and deposited the grocery bag on the counter, then turned to face Paige.

She was dressed in a slim skirt and a form-fitting shirt that clung to her perfectly sized breasts. She wasn’t big by any stretch of the imagination, but her breasts were the perfect size for her frame. Torrian had become disenchanted with disproportionate, gargantuan chests years ago. He much preferred the look and feel of a natural woman.

“For a minute I wasn’t sure you would answer the door.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Paige asked.

“I thought maybe you were still upset about me winning the first competition.”

Her eyes narrowed with disapproval, but there was a hint of amusement around the edges. “Enjoy it while you can. It’ll be the last win you get.” She grinned. “What’s in the bag?” Paige nodded toward the sack he held.